


Confessions

by whilloywriter



Category: The Journals of Vincent Tucat
Genre: Coming Out, Confession, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whilloywriter/pseuds/whilloywriter
Summary: Obscure fanfic for a story that was first published on Wattpad? Don't mind if I do. Reread the first book on vacation and felt a great need... might post the second half at some point. Theodore Haundsing and Vincent Tucat have been best friends since childhood, but Theo has always kept a secret. Finally, Vincent finds out what, and decides to come clean in turn.
Relationships: Vincent Tucat/Theodore Haundsing





	Confessions

Lord Vincent Tucat of Harael had spent hours handling the hiring of his new staff. No, hours was not accurate. To be entirely accurate, he would estimate it was four straight days of interviews and assessments, the process of either being long and tiring and full of pointless pageantry. After the Prince had handed him almost all of the old Greybridge territory, he'd found himself in desperate need of people to help him tend the large, winding collection of streets that made up his new land. 

At first, he'd simply tasked Cyrus and Talia to do it for him, as he often did. And at first, it had worked. And though Vincent found their selection of knights and servants serviceable and worthy of his limited trust, when it came to selecting collectors and coroners, the careful and trained eye of the lord was required. And so, he'd spent the last four days conducting interviews and assessments. And as such, it was a rather tiring process. And one that didn't even truly matter! It was not recorded in his journals, it was a process so boring and droll that it would be consigned to the forgotten annals of history. As many administrative things were. In fact, most of his life went unrecorded, unimportant. He made a note to make a note of that in his next entry.

He now found himself in the large, underground room past a very arduous set of traps he had just designed and installed. He found it difficult to navigate with his leg, but he trusted that once he was recovered, he'd be able to dance around the dangerous steps as he always had. If... if he ever did. He cursed as he set down his cane and slowly reclined into the plush leather armchair, a glass of vintage green in hand. The healers still weren't sure if his leg would ever work as it once had. Not entirely. He rested his hand on his chin, fingers curling delicately across his jaw as his eyes wandered to the stone not far from where his feet rested. He swore, in the low light, the pale gray was stained red. Cyrus assured him it was not. Theo did as well. He told himself the same thing now, as he turned away. 

He brought the glass to his lips instead, a choked sigh escaping him. He was too tired to think, and too awake to sleep. It was a line he often walked, and the candles didn't help. He rested his head on the back of the chair, his hand pressing forcefully on his aching thigh. He didn't want to think of the Greybridge land, or... or Redforne. Hades, the last thing he wanted to think of was Redforne. He rolled the wine glass between his fingers, eyes closed. He focused on anything else. On the way his chest rose and fell, on the way the air settled around him. He focused on the hair slipping from his ponytail and tickling his ear. 

He tried, for just a moment, to focus on now. This moment, here. Not the future, or one of his many hypotheticals. Vincent relaxed, his glass lowering to the side table. The gentle sound of the glass stand rolling on the dark wood was beautiful music. He hummed softly, releasing a tension he didnt know he was holding in his brow. 

Fuck, he felt so vulnerable. He pushed the thought away. Hatred and anger welled in his stomach, guilt burning at his throat. He hated that he felt so afraid. That, even as he tried to relax, the wheels in his mind kept turning. They refused to let him rest. He was burdened. Cursed. He was tired. He detested how impossibly tired he was. There were times he felt blessed, lucky, and then there were times such as now. When all he wanted was to rest.

"I thought you were supposed to be impossible to sneak up on." 

Vincent snapped up, attempting to stand. His eyes were wide, wild with fear as he grasped for his cane, only to see Theo. Tall, still, though currently hunched in a delicate way, his hands extended in concern as he approached. His broad shoulders were curled inward. 

"Shit, Theo," Vincent sighed as he lowered himself. A relieved chuckle escaped him. "You..." the words died on his lips. Theo nodded apologetically, dark, curly hair bouncing. His slicked back hair had come undone, the perfect, oiled wave worn away by the day. Though he was smiling, his hazel eyes were full of worry. 

"Yeah. Sorry," Theo murmured as he sat gracelessly on the couch beside Vincent. "I thought I would come pay my friend a visit," the smile finally reached his eyes as he gestured down at the empty glass, sides decorated with dew drops of green liquid. "Though I guess you already got the party started without me, eh?" 

Vincent laughed softly, pushing the loose strand of white hair back, behind his ear. There was no humor in it. He felt a pang of guilt once again as Theo noticed the hollow gesture, his expression falling. He was as perceptive as he was easy to read. "I suppose I did." He said cheerily, picking up his empty glass. He didn't want his friend to feel bad. 

"Let me." Theo took the glass, his words an after thought as he made his way to the drink cabinet. 

"Thank you." 

It was silent, then. Theo returned with two glasses of the dark, emerald wine. When he approached, Vincent stood. The effort of the simple action embarrassed him. As did the pain that spread, hot and angry, down to his feet. He took the glass, extending it up for a toast. 

"To friendship." Vincent touched their glasses together. The statement was quiet. No bravado, no performance. Only a softness that surprised him. Maybe this was what he needed. Maybe what he needed right now was not to be alone, but to be with a friend. 

"Yes. To friendship." Theo gave him a look. One Vincent didn't understand. They both took a sip. As he went to sit, Theo's hand shot to his side, steadying him. His palm was warm, heat radiating through his thin, dark undershirt. He batted it away as he reclined against the couch cushion. 

"Good lord, man," Vincent rolled his eyes, spreading his legs comfortably as Theo sat. He smiled softly, to let him know it was alright. When Theo smiled back, relieved, his cheek dumpling slightly, he felt his spirits raise. "I'm not one hundred years old. I can still get around. Shit, I can still beat you at a climbing contest any day." 

"Oh, I'm sure," Theo rolled his eyes, relaxing into the couch. He threw his arm over the back, chuckling. Vincent couldn't help his eyes as they wandered across his broad chest, admiring the way his muscled shoulders stretched. "You're not called the Cat of Harael for nothing." 

Vincent shot him an unamused look, his lip curling as he gestured with his glass. "A ridiculous and uncreative title. Cats might be dexterous, but if I'm known for climbing, I should be the... Monkey of Harael." He tutted, drawing back into himself. It felt nice to fall into old routines, in the well-trodden paths of conversations that made up their nearly 20 year long friendship. It was comforting. 

Theo shrugged with him, rapping his fingers against the back of the couch in rhythm. "Better than Kitty Cat of Purr-ael." He said bluntly.

There was another pause before the two burst into laughter, Vincent's chin tucking against his chest as Theo leaned back. As his friend laughed harder, so did Vincent, spurred by the joyous and infectious sound. He'd needed this. 

"Good lord..." Vincent sighed breathlessly, watching as his friend struggled against his own laughter, chest heaving as he patted his chest in a desperate bid to calm himself. 

He tapped his temple, a twinkle in his eye. "You'll never understand my mysterious, genius ways." He sipped from his glass. 

"I suppose not. You are familiar with the sayings neh?" Vincent's smile widened. "No point in trying to understand crazy." 

Theo laughed again, gasping in upset as his hand flew up, smacking his arm from behind. "How dare you," he shook his head, glaring at him behind the lip of his glass. "Oh, gods, speaking of, you'll never guess who I saw today." 

Vincent nestled in, leaning down, his shirt wrinkled by the arm of the couch. "Go on." He raised his eyebrows, invested in the daily gossip. He was happy to have a distraction from his own thoughts, and the company of his friend. He studied his face as Theo turned, raising his eyebrows pointedly. 

"Lady Garnkoff." 

Vincent rolled his eyes, laughing through his nose as he took a sip of his wine glass. "Oh, I'll guess what she had to say to you."

Theo nodded, exasperated. "Yes! On and on again about how her daughter is single. She would have shoved that dinner invitation up my ass if she could reach it, Vince," He leaned forward, eyes wide. "She practically cornered me, forced my back against a fucking wall, prattling about the depraved life of a bachelor," he took a messy sip of wine. Vincent laughed, drawing his shoulders up. "She's relentless."

"Well..." Vincent trailed, raising his eyebrows. He shifted, sitting up as he turned to set his half-empty glass down. 

"Well?" Theo's expression lit, mock anger and shock. "You think she's right?" 

Vincent winced, raised a hand. "All I'm saying is, you're 35, unmarried, and you have frequent clandestine meetings with a man in a secret tunnel connected to your keep. That's unusual for a lord." 

Theo froze, his eyebrows raising higher, jaw dropping lower if that was even possible. "Vince." He warned.

"I am just saying-" 

Theo cut him off. "You're no better, you know. How you handled everything with Jania? Which, on top of being a totally idiotic plan, which I warned you of by the way, has got the rumors started again," Theo shook his head. "You're a fool."

It was Vincent's turn now. His ears perked, that small, scheming, plotting side of his brain turning the wheels once more. "Wait-" he extended a hand, pressing it against Theo's chest as his friend gritted his teeth, realizing his grave mistake. "Rumors? Concerning me?" 

Theo shook his head. "I shouldn't have said anything, Vince, forget it." He bit his lip in regret as he adjusted, setting down his own emptied glass.

He pursed his lips in frustration before smiling. "Come now, we're friends, Theo." He teased, sitting up slightly. When it came to rumors, Vincent wanted to hear everything. He wanted to know everything. He didn't care how tawdry or embarrassing, if it was being said of him, if someone believed it, it was valuable. He had a skill for turning rumors to currency. Once, he had used the rumor he had a cock ring to thwart an assassination attempt. Though, he didn't so much as do the thwarting as inform the Crown Knights of the need to thwart. Either way, the point stood.

"How bad could it be? Have I got a painted lady I'm seeing, or some sort of commoner woman so secret even I don't know about her?" Vincent raised his eyebrows cheerfully. 

Theo winced. "No. People are on again that you're only interested in men." 

This was one thing he greatly enjoyed about Theo. Once you could wring the truth from him, an easy task for Vincent Tucat, he was always straightforward. No beating around the bush when it came to him, no allusions to half-truths. He just said it. 

"Sorry," Theo shook his head. "I shouldn't have said anything. Let's talk about something else." 

Vincent nodded, allowing the conversation to slip easily back to other subjects. They launched into their usual stories and subjects, entertaining each other with old memories. The hours passed easily with the companionship of his closest and dearest friend. He found the feeling of exhaustion, the weight from his shoulders, was slowly being lifted. He was reminded of his old self again, his true self. Not this ghost of a man, this vile and hateful creature who roamed the halls of the Keep scheming and plotting and wallowing in pain. Every laugh, every smile, felt important to him. 

And yet, his mind kept wandering to the earlier discussion. It loomed over his head like a black cloud, refusing to dissipate. It returned in the quiet moments, when Theo would crane his head to the side, gesticulating at some point, and Vincent's eyes would linger along his jaw. It wasn't that Lord's entertaining the company of other Lord's was unheard of. It was said in the countryside, one had even taken a husband rather than a wife. There was a Lady in the south who kept the company of a wife and a mistress. But this was Harael. And things were different here, so close under the eye of the Prince. So close to the hungry, clawing wolves. They'd use anything and everything to gain advantage, to mark you as different.

But Vincent was already different. His eyes wandered to the silver-white scar across the back of his hand, Theo's story fading as he sipped his water. His fingers flexed. It wasn't like the thought offended him. He found nothing abhorrent or disgusting at the thought of him bedding with a man, or marrying one. He never had, when the thought came to him in the dark of night. When he was younger, when he learned of the infertility of rose blight survivors, he thought of his romantic future rather frequently. He had nothing to do but ponder those sorts of questions, really. And though he had recently come to picture himself alone, there was a time when he entertained the idea of a husband. Of adopting a son, rather than birthing one. 

Could he be judged for that? Did he care? He looked up to Theo, surprised to find his friend was already looking at him. His eyes were once again full of concern. Vincent felt a sudden lump in the bottom of his throat. He found it hard to breathe. He cared if Theo cared. He was his only friend, his one true confidant. Maybe the only person who truly cared for him, as well. Not much was constant in the ever changing landscape of Harael. Not the land he governed, nor the expanding borders, nor his own life. But Theodore was. He treasured that. And the thought of losing it over something so comparatively inconsequential was terrifying. Vincent knew he was an unlovable bastard. Why should he bother sharing it, if the risks were so great? 

And then again, the thought buzzed. It hovered, relentless. What if it was all alright?

"What?" Vincent said warily, smiling softly, trying to dismiss the thoughts. He wouldn't allow himself to think that way. He would forget it, as he already had once before. 

Theo shifted, moving closer. Vincent's brow furrowed as he laughed under his breath. "I'm worried about you, Vince." His voice was soft, genuine. Vincent swallowed uneasily, off put by the sudden shift in the room. 

"Don't be," Was all he could muster. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, his smile widening gracefully. "Tucat's always land on their feet." 

Theo seemed comforted, momentarily, by the silly phrase, an in-joke they'd established long ago. But still, he persisted, his head tilting slightly. He could rarely let things go. "You have something on your mind." He said firmly. 

"No-" 

"Bullshit," Theo sang, leaning back, throwing his hand out, exasperated. "You can talk to me, Vince. I'm your best friend. Fuck, I'm your only friend. You've been so gloomy lately and I tried to cheer you up but something is bothering you. So come on," he turned to face Vincent in earnest, smacking his thigh. "Just say it." 

Vincent stared at him. Just say it. The Haundsing way. He suspiciously studied Theo's expression as he sat up. His features were open, welcoming, but the telltale furrow in his brow marked him as anxious. About what, Vincent could not imagine. This was his to be anxious about. He exhaled explosively, shaking his head. Fine. He shoved the lump, the well of panic and fear in his chest that told him to run, far, far down. 

"I am interested in men."

Theo nodded. "As am I." 

Vincent nodded in return. "Exclusively?" 

Theo continued to nod. "Yes. And you?" 

"No. Women as well."

They both resembled chickens, then. Bobbing their heads along. The tension finally broke, relieved laughter escaping the two of them. The exercise hall rang with the sound, it echoed back to them. And, when Vincent finally opened his eyes, Theo was staring at him, eliciting another spell of the giggles. 

"Theo, I-"

"I know!" Theo exclaimed. "Me too." He shook his head in disbelief, his hand moving to his crystal glass of scotch. He took a swig, hazel eyes trained back on Vincent, amused and happy. 

"It's the least of my worries, honestly, but I am glad to be rid of that weight," He admitted. It wasn't a weight he realized he'd been carrying, until that moment, when the burden of it was gone. He felt... relieved, mostly, and overjoyed. Now Theo knew everything. "Gods above and below." He shook his head as well, releasing a laugh through his nose as he retrieved his cigar. 

Theo nodded, just as animated as he always was. "I was afraid you would judge me for it." 

Vincent scoffed. "Clearly not." 

"No!" Theo tilted his head back, grinning from ear to ear. Before he was suddenly sobered. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, his jaw set. Vincent, startled, sat up, put off by the sudden change in disposition. 

"Err- what is it?" He said, concerned.

"Vincent Tucat, there is a matter which I have always wished to discuss with you but have never has the courage to," He hissed air from his clenched teeth, turning away dramatically. Vincent caught on, shaking his head as he reclined once more, chuckling already. "Lord Redwood." 

"I know."

Theo threw his hands up in distress. Vincent laughed. "What is a man to do, Vince! He's beautiful."

"He is," He shook his head, balancing the cigar expertly between his fingers. "Dumb as a bag of sand, however." 

Theo rolled his eyes. "And what of it. I don't even care." 

Vincent raised his eyebrows, intrigued. As he always was, when it came to collecting information about his fellow lords. Though, he would never dream of turning this particular nugget against Theo. Or any. He would never dare to betray him. But, still... he had keen ears. Even when he was this tipsy. "Is that your type, then, eh?" He half-teased. 

Theo cocked a single eyebrow. "Redwood?" 

Vincent nodded. "Dumb but beautiful. Is Lord Haundsing in the market for a trophy husband?" 

Theo scoffed indignantly, waving a hand towards Vincent dismissively. "No, heavens and hell's no." 

Vincent placed the cigar between his lips, gesturing for him to continue. It seemed he did not need the prodding as he leaned forward, eager to share. It was clear these thoughts had been welling inside him. Vincent was, for a moment, sad they could not talk like this sooner. They'd had many conversations as to the romance of women, but it seemed now that Theo had truly never been passionate about the discussions. Not in comparison to now. It suddenly dawned on him why Theo had been so nervous earlier. They had both been carrying this weight, but he realized now the toll it must have taken on Theo to pretend. To pretend for so long. 

He didn't realize he hadn't even been listening until Theo turned to him. 

"Sorry. Could you-" 

Theo punched his arm playfully. "I was saying, no, you ass. My type is... well, I suppose, thinking on my past, er, interests, I like someone who is shorter than I am. Someone who is passionate, and strong. Someone who challenges me, and is fun to talk to," His voice transformed as he talked. He became less playful, and more honest. Haundsing honest. "They must be caring, and smart. And-" He turned to Vincent, his words caught in his throat.

Vincent clumsily removed the cigar, surprised at how invested he'd become in his words. How absorbed in his eyes, and how the corners tightened and relaxed as he talked, swept away by some dream man. "Go on. I'm listening." Vincent urged.

Theo hesitated. "What about you?" 

Vincent shrugged. He had never truly given it much thought. He had considered his future partner, his ideal family, but never what that other person would look like. What their personality would be, what would make their character. It seemed futile to him. A dream, yes, but not one that brought him comfort. A bitter one. 

"I don't know." He admitted. Theo only hummed in response and turned his eyes away, inspecting his glass. 

They were not many more glasses in when Vincent decided they were done for tonight. They still needed to be sober enough to navigate the traps, after all, and Theo could not very well stay the night here. So, they changed to water for a spell, downing glasses as they lounged and chatted, discussing romance and courtship and stories from their past. Theo shared his first attempts at love, and Vincent stayed mostly quiet. He did not feel like unpacking that particular bag tonight, and it was clear to him Theo had quite a bit of unpacking of his own to do.

He listened instead. He was surprised at how tender his friend could really be. Vincent knew he was all soft inside, and most times, outside as well, but it was another to spend years reading his subtle signs of affection and another for them to be pronounced and discussed so frankly. As they sobered, the conversation shifted, as it often did when the effects of alcohol were no longer a factor. 

There was one thing that continued to stick with Vincent. One particularly odd moment, an out of character comment from Theo that had nestled itself into the back of his mind. He'd asked if Theo had ever been in love. To which his honest, frank, brutally blunt friend had cryptically replied:   
"Only once."

When Vincent prodded, Theo rapidly changed the subject. He'd dropped it and moved on, but still it bothered him. The look of sadness and grief on his face suggested a tragic tale. They both had their fair score of tragic tales, but he couldn't shake the feeling there was something else in his eyes. A conflict. Vincent didn't know if he was being selfless or selfish, but he wanted to know what it meant. In part to satisfy his insatiable curiosity, and in part to help his friend. He'd found over the many years of their time together that almost nothing could be worsened by speaking openly and honestly with a true friend. Tonight was an example of that! They would both leave here feeling unburdened. 

But he put the thought aside. He continued to put the gnawing feeling behind him all night. Until they were sober enough to part, and then he would truly forget it. 

Vincent extended a hand, patting Theo's knee. "Alright, old friend. Stand up." 

Theo eyed him suspiciously. "Why?" Vincent only gestured for him to stand in response. He groaned before doing so, placing his hands on his knees as he dramatically pushed himself up, holding his hands out. "I hate when you do this." 

Vincent smiled up at him with every ounce of innocent and confusion as he could muster. "Do what?" Theo's undershirt had come undone, and as he stood, the deep red fabric had parted to reveal a section of his chest. He alternatively focused on rolling up his sleeves. 

"Tell me to do things without telling me what for." Theo's tone suggested this was obvious. 

Vincent frowned, placing his own hand on his knee. "I've never done that," He stood unevenly, trying to keep the pressure off his now aching leg. He grasped for his cane, propping himself against it. Theo's hands hovered, waiting to assist him. He batted them away with a frustrated sigh. "I don't much care for that, Theo." 

Theo grunted, but Vincent could feel his concerned stare without even looking at him. "You've done it quite a lot, actually. All our lives," He said, slightly amused. "What's my next order, Milord?" He bowed sloppily. 

Vincent reacted as if he'd been stabbed, his hand flying to his chest, his face contorting. "It's astounding," he remarked in anguish "How uncomfortable that made me. You should have just spat on me, Theo, honestly." 

Theo tilted his head back, laughing as he extended an arm to Vincent. "Your escort, Milord." His voice dropped in pitch, accent becoming rougher, appropriate more for the streets of Gairensburg, not the vast halls of a lords keep. Or, under the vast halls of a lord's keep.

Vincent whined, wiggling as though a snake had slithered up his back. "Alright, you ass. To the dueling circle." 

Theo complied, though he pulled a face as he walked in slow step with Vincent. "I don't think a duel is what we need right now, Vince."

Vincent didn't bother to respond. As they approached, he pulled away, leaning his weight on his good leg. He whacked Theo's ankle lightly with his cane. "Walk." 

Theo slowly turned to him, "First off, ow," He said pointedly, laughing as he stared down at him. Vincent only shrugged. "Secondly, why?" 

Vincent gestured at the white painted line with his cane, and whacked Theo in the ankle again, this time a little bit harder, finally spurring him to action. Theo stepped onto the line, spreading his arms as he carefully balanced one foot in front of the other. He kept his eyes trained on the line as he circled it. Vincent kept a well trained eye on his balance. 

"Well, Theodore, I'm attempting to accurately assess your ability to navigate the rather complicated set of traps on the other side of that door." He nodded loosely to the corner of the exercise hall that connected to Haundsing Keep. Theo looked up at him, disbelieving. 

"Bah," he lifted his chin. "I can do that with my eyes closed. I know I'm not the most dexterous Lord in the city, but you're being ridiculous." 

Vincent tutted as he shook his head, projecting somber sincerity. "Unfortunately, I am as serious as the grave. I trust you can do it with your eyes closed, but can you do it with your eyes closed after a bottle of '45?" 

Theodore hesitated, wavering slightly. He relented, continuing with one foot in front of the other as he slowly stepped around the dueling circle. He was surprised and impressed. It seemed his tolerance had grown since they were 20. When he reached the starting point, he bowed with much theatrics, his chin nearly touching his knees as he extended his arms, flapping them about like a flightless bird. 

Vincent rested his cane on the crook of his elbow, applauding slightly. "Bravo! There's a good man." 

Theodore put on a sardonic smile, popping up excitedly from his bow. "Your turn." He said smugly, assuming a position more suited for the balcony of an opera. 

Vincent scoffed, turning away. "I should think not. My constitution is half of yours, and on top of that, my leg is not exactly in working condition." He turned away, shaking his head as though it was a ridiculous idea. He extended a hand for his friends arm once again. 

Theo just stared at him, lips vanishing as he curled them, mock frustration playing comically across his face. "What are you gonna do? Have me carry you over?" 

Vincent laughed daintily, placing his hand on his chest as they walked towards the Haundsing exit. "Cyrus will, actually." 

That elicited a chuckle. They walked in tandem, heels and cane clicking across the gray stone. Vincent had, all and all, a very good night. It had started poorly, with sad thoughts and a general air of depression. But then, things had started to look up. Theo had a way of doing that. Brightening up his night whenever he stopped by for a visit. Tonight especially so. He felt at peace. He hummed, content.

There was only one thing that bothered him. He looked to Theo, criticizing his features. He seemed to feel a similar way. He seemed happy, genuinely so. A small smile rested on his lips, as easy and natural as the sunshine. He released a small breath. 

Theo was hardly secretive with him. There was only ever one thing, as he'd recently learned, that he had ever successfully kept secret from Vincent. He'd even admitted himself that he always felt better after confiding in Vincent. And he felt the same. That was part of what made this whole thing work between them. There were not many people Vincent trusted- no, there was one person Vincent trusted. Exactly one person he cared about, one person he would do anything for. If there was something bothering Theo, he wanted to alleviate it. 

They stopped near the exit. Vincent turned to Theo, taking a breath for their final goodbyes. He turned to his friend, looking up at him. There was an awkward moment, as their eyes met, hazel and green. 

"Theo," he cast an awkward glance to the side. "You know I hold you dearly to my heart. I don't say it often enough. I appreciate the trust and-" 

Theo waved his hand, shaking his head. "Enough with the speeches," They both smiled at that. "Spit it out." 

Vincent nodded slightly. "Right. Fair enough. Earlier, you confided in me you had only fallen in love once. You... it seemed to bother you," He watched carefully as Theo looked away, his entire posture stiffening as he tensed uncomfortably. "I understand the delicacy of the information you shared with me, but Theodore," Vincent smiled at his friend as he turned back to him. His voice was quiet. Gentle. "There is nothing you could do to turn me against you. I am at your side, no matter what. Even if you wanted to get rid of me you could not," 

He cleared his throat slightly. "That being said. If you do not wish to tell me, I will not push you." Vincent took a slight step back, nodding as he pushed his heels together. Theo just stared at him, his eyes soft, the conflict and unease playing at his face. He bit his lower lip as if to force himself to remain quiet. 

With an explosion of exasperated sound and movement, Theo huffed, running a hand through his thick, dark, silver stained curls. He threw a hand out, smacking the back wall, causing it to slide open. "Vincent, I have been in love with you since we were 10." 

Theo slipped into the tunnel, waving awkwardly. "Goodbye." 

That was all he said. 

Vincent was not sure how much time passed. His mouth was dry, his tongue like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. He uttered a single word, croaked it, barely managing to get it out of his clumsy mouth. 

"What?"


End file.
